Mysteries of Phoenix
by phoenixwriter
Summary: Mysteries of Phoenix is a collection of ficlets, written as answer to challenges. The storys are HHr and not longer as 2000 words.
1. Default Chapter

**Mysteries of Phoenix**

A collection of short ficlets: 1000 words till 2000 words

My answers to a Summer-Challenge

**Author-Note: **I would like to thank **spencer** for betaing this ficlet.

**Summer-Challenge: **Harry or Hermione receives a gift and discovers it's from the other

**Workaholic**

Nearly every day the alarm went off at 5 AM, calling through the darkness for Hermione to get up for work. As owner of a bookshop, she had to wake up early to do paperwork before she opened the store itself.

Today was no exception, as she again wished her shop had a connection to the floo network so she didn't need to travel like a Muggle. Since the war, Diagon Alley had been designated a restricted zone. No one other than an Auror was allowed to apparate in.

The British weather was especially unbearable in autumn; if not thick fog, then it was heavy chilling rain. The underground was even more crowded than usual this morning due to the heavy rainfall.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably and wished for her commute to be over. Finally arriving, she sighed heavily as she muttered the incantation to open her shop. Inside, she was in a kind of heaven, if not Hogwarts, which she missed terribly at times.

It wasn't simply the castle or the classes, but rather the times when she was still a little girl who could hang around every single day with her best friends. How she missed them! Never before she had thought she would miss the daily arguments with Ron, but what Hermione truly missed the most was Harry.

After Voldemort was gone forever, Harry had announced that he wanted to see the world, to be free from his prior burdens. With tears in her eyes, she had accepted his decision to leave England.

Harry seldom wrote to her, but even when he did, he didn't mention personal matters, so she finally started to throw herself more into her bookshop, building up a large clientele. After all, Hermione was famous in the wizarding world herself, too.

After a year, she found that she needed an assistant. After searching, she finally found a girl barely older than herself. In Hermione's opinion, Lydia could have done well in Witch Weekly, Hermione having never seen a girl that beautiful without veela blood. But it didn't matter much because Lydia was excellent help.

Thoughtfully, Hermione went past the full bookshelves, looking for books that needed restocking. As usual, many Gilderoy Lockhart books were with on the list. Thus started another morning, just like every other one of Hermione's life after Hogwarts.

There was no longer a famous Harry Potter around her who needed her knowledge to survive; now he managed alone without her. There wasn't a Ron Weasley who bickered with her about everything and anything; they just met once a week because of old times.

After all, Ron was now married and had a job outside London; he didn't need Hermione. The only things that needed her were her clientele and this shop. Sometimes, though, in the quiet depths of her soul, she admitted that she really didn't know what she wanted anymore—not this, certainly, but something much more, something indefinable. Angry with her own sentimentality, she pressed her quill against the parchment with so much force that it broke.

Furiously she threw it away. This wasn't where she belonged, she thought. Her place was somewhere else. The first tears fell unnoticed; thankfully, the earliness of the day meant that she didn't need to hide them from anyone. Sometimes this hollow in her heart was just too much for her.

Suddenly, "Hermione?" a female voice called after her. Hermione hurriedly brushed her tears away so she could face her blond assistant.

"Here, I'm here, Lydia," she answered with a steady voice.

"Is that your owl there?" Lydia came around the shelves and pointed at the window. Curious, Hermione went to the window to see if this owl was familiar to her. Through the mist it was hard to see anything outside the shop.

The fog that had accompanied the rain thwarted her efforts to see out. Hermione opened the window carefully and found herself greeted by a snow-white owl. Her heart beating faster, she let Hedwig in. It had been months since she had last seen Hedwig, and to see her now… Attached to her leg was a rather large packet.

"Who's it from?" asked Lydia, who was looking over Hermione's shoulder.

"It's from Harry," she answered shortly.

"It isn't your birthday, or…?" Lydia questioned her, but Hermione just shook her head.

After she freed Hedwig from her delivery, the owl flew straight onto Hermione's shoulder and watched as she started to unwrap the damp packet. Under the paper was a wooden box. For a brief moment Hermione hesitated to open it, but Lydia and Hedwig urged her on.

The moment she opened it, soft music began to play:

_I've been searching for you_

_I heard a cry within my soul_

_I've never had a yearning quite like this before_

_Know that you are walking right through my door_

_All of my life_

_Where have you been?_

_I wonder if I'll ever see you again__And if that day comes_

_I know we could win_

_I wonder if I'll ever see you again_

A tiny golden snitch was hovering over the opened box, the music coming from its wings. Fascinated and touched by this gift, Hermione reached out to catch the miniature snitch. Suddenly and unexpectedly, she felt a familiar jerk behind her navel.

"A Portkey!" The thought rang through Hermione's mind as her feet touched solid ground again.

Bright sun hit her face as she turned, confused as to where she was. Her gaze passed over a lake and forest before coming to rest on an old stone castle, and Hermione realized she was back at Hogwarts.

"If you could see your face!"

She heard a warm, gentle voice from just behind her. Abruptly she turned around and stood face to face with Harry. "I missed you," he said with a much smaller voice and gathered her in his arms to hug her tightly.

Joy overwhelming her, she kissed him eagerly on his lips, a favour he returned. This, Hermione decided, was truly her heaven.


	2. Jessie's Great Day

**Author-note: **I would like to thank **Austenlover **for her betaing. Nice job. The first time ever I try myself at a OC.

**Summer Challenge for June 11th, 2004: 2000 words**  
Harry and Hermione teach Ron (and Luna if you like) to play a Muggle board game.  
Sounds easy enough, but here's the challenge: **you have to write the whole story with nothing but dialogue**

**Jessie's Great Day**  
  
"Today, today as the sun rose, started Jessie's great day. Did you know, Kitty? Did you know today is my great day, Mummy said so. Dad said Uncle Ron and Aunt Luna'll come today, and Josh and Chiara too. Oh, Kitty this will be such a great day for everyone."  
  
"Jessie!"  
  
"Mummy is calling. Kitty you must go under my bed or else we have troubles! She didn't allow to have you here at least not today."  
  
"Jessie, where are you?"  
  
"I'm here, in my room, Mum."  
  
"Oh dear, Jessica. Honestly, didn't I tell you to tidy up? Look at this mess, and in just a few minutes Josh and Chiara will be here. Where is your cat?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Don't lie, I'm not deaf, Jessica! I know she is here though I told you: First clean up your room then you can play with Kitty. Don't you ever listen to me?"  
  
"Oh, mum!"  
  
"You're a bit too firm, honey. Well, I expect Jessie's room will be messed up again whenRon's kids are here. There is no reason to clean up in the first place, since I doubt Josh and Chiara will be offended by this chaos. Just relax, Hermione."  
  
"You can easily talk, it was, after all, I who needed to do everything, like get rid of the hole in the roof. Harry, I told you before to stop teaching Jessica those blasting spells. I always have to clean up after you two."   
  
"Think about how it'll be when little Luke joins us in a few months. You just need to take it easy. Just look – wow you're all tensed up dear – let me deal with this party and you could –"  
  
"Don't touch me, Harry. After all, it's your fault. Look at me! I'm all fat and round."  
  
"But you wanted it, too. You know there are two involved not just one, Hermione."  
  
"Just leave me ALONE!."   
  
"Dad?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Did I do something wrong?"  
  
"Oh no, Jessie. It's not your fault, its mine. You'll see, Mummy will be fine again, in no time."  
  
"You realise, you said that last week, too?"  
  
"Eh, yeah, I did, didn't I? Seriously, you scare me with this memorising of little things."  
  
"It's you who keeps telling me I got it from Mum. Though, I hope I didn't inherit her temper."  
  
"Sweetie, you know why Mum is like that. She is usually not that bad."  
  
"Today is my birthday, Dad! She could at least try to be nice. I – I don't care if Mum and you are expecting another child. This day is my day and after all these months, I at least deserve it that Mum is only nice on this day ."   
  
"Come on, don't cry! You know she doesn't meant it. Honey, you must understand –"  
  
"No, I don't need to understand! It's my thirteenth birthday. After I spent Christmas away from home, she could at least give me just this one day. Just this day, Dad? Is it really to much to ask for?"  
  
"Jessie, wait! Women! Why in the world am I cursed with two hormonal females?"  
  
"Are you seriously asking this, Harry?"   
  
"You're bit early, Ron. What happened?"  
  
"Luna."  
  
"You say it as if it did explain everything, even that my best friend who usually comes a hour too late is over two hour's too early?"  
  
"Harry, you don't understand, its an old custom to be early on a birthday."  
  
"So it's not the hormones?"  
  
"Well, Luna is bit different in this area. You know her hormones kick in every night, if you know what I mean."  
  
"Can we change the topic, please!"  
  
"If you request it, mate."  
  
"Jessica reminds me more and more at a younger form of Hermione. Ah Harry, how are you? I hope you didn't buy any hats?"  
  
"I could swear Jessie had just the same black hair like Harry. Darling, are you sure you don't mean Harry? That she reminds you of Harry?"  
  
"From character, Ron. Just from character. You haven't seen Hermione and Jessica yet, have you?"  
  
"No, I hadn't yet the pleasure to **see** my goddaughter and my best friend, why?"  
  
"Would you mind telling me first why I shouldn't have bought hats for the birthday party of my little girl, Luna?"  
  
"You're truly interested? Good, because Jessica told me she can't stand hats, though they promise a good year. Hermione seemed to be rather tempered as I met her in the living room and Jessica didn't want to stay in one room with her so she dragged the twins outdoors.  
  
"Is that true, Harry? Don't tell me Hermione and Jessica were fighting again? It's her birthday, doesn't Hermione realise what she does to her daughter?"  
  
"Just drop it Ron, and you too Luna. It won't change anything. Just luckily in a few weeks Hermione will be back to her normal self."  
  
"But the damage will already be done, Harry. Look, I know how it feels to be second best. If Jessie starts to feel like that regarding the baby, I'll tell you things could turn pretty nasty."  
  
"Ron is right, Harry. You really should talk with Hermione."  
  
"Not you too, Luna. Listen, its not only Hermione's fault. She is after all pregnant and its perfectly normal that she is moody and that's fine. I'm sure Jessie knows her mother loves her. Can we please turn back to the birthday itself?"  
  
"Sure if you say so. Luna and I won't interfere. We just wanted to be your friends."  
  
"Its fine Ron. Its just— Hermione isn't as bad as you make her."  
  
                                                           
"I can't eat any more, Hermione. Surely you have outdone yourself. I mean, and Luna will certainly agree, that this little birthday party is really overwhelming. If I just look at the decorations, it's just wow. Too bad only we could come today, but Mum insisted it was better for you to have only a few visitors per day, so we split it up. Today Luna, the kids and I are here, tomorrow the rest of the Weasley clan."  
  
"Your mother is probably right. Well, its in honour of Jessie thather birthday lasts two days."  
  
"Mum, you know I didn't ask for it."  
  
"Anyway, I guess its time for a little game. Harry, do you have the scarf?"  
  
"Got it, Hermione. Will you explain the rules or should I?"   
  
"Its fine, I'll do it. This is a muggle game. You know something kids play in a kindergarten –"  
  
"Kindergarten?"  
  
"Yes, Ron, you know, where muggle kids go before they are old enough for school."  
  
"And we going to play such a game?"  
  
"That was the original idea, Luna. Anyway the game is called The Blind Man's Bluff."  
  
"Could we just start with it already?"  
  
"No, Josh. Not before your aunt has explained the rules. After all it's a muggle game and we, says you, your sister, your father and I need to know where we get into."  
  
"Can I now go on?"  
  
"Just get over it, already, Mum."  
  
"Well, all right. Blindfold one player and spin them around 3 times. The blindfolded player tries to tag one of the other players, who may crouch low, sneak up behind the "blind man" and yell "Boo", or stand still and keep very quiet. Eventually though, someone will get careless and be tagged. That player is then blindfolded for the next game. That's how it works, any questions?"  
  
"Yes, do we really need to play it at all, Mum?"  
  
"Of course we need to play it, Jessie! Your mother did everything to prepare so we'll play it. After all its fun."  
  
"That is so typical for you, Dad. As usual. you take her side and agree to every stupid idea of hers. Did you even care and ask me if I want play such a game? Or if its my favourite game? No, you already decided over my head –"  
  
"Stop it, Jessie. You've got no right to talk to your mother like that. You hear me? I won't allow for you take this tone with her –"  
  
"Harry, it's all right. S-she is right I should have asked her. It's my fault. Excuse me but you're better without me."  
  
"Hermione, love don't…go."  
  
"Harry, you better go after her. Every emotional stress is poison to her. You remember how it was last time, don't you?"  
  
"Of course I do, Ron. As if I could ever forget it how many hours I, we, worried about Jessie's and Hermione's health."  
  
"Don't worry, Harry. We'll have a little talk with Jessie, so you can speak to Hermione."  
  
"Thank you, Luna. You too, Ron."  
  
"Now to you, darling. I know its tough to see how your parents expect another child, but –"  
  
"But what, Uncle Ron? Did your mother treat you like mine does?"  
  
"I'm not talking about myself, Jessie. Look, Josh and Chiara are going through the same thing, if you haven't noticed –"  
  
"They don't have to face a mother who is everyday mean to them and search for a reason to boss or nag them around."  
  
"Well, Hermione isn't Luna. She can't take it easy like you want her to."  
  
"Why not, Uncle Ron? Why not? She always has to take things so damn serious! It's now worse than ever before. At least before she became pregnant she was fair to me and we had fun together, just like that but now I – I almost wish I were back at Hogwarts and didn'tneed to share a room with her ."  
  
"Ron is right. I'm not like your mother, every woman handles or reacts different while she is pregnant, but with your mother, we have a special case. Her first pregnancy was rather tough. It wasn't clear if she could get you at all. Hermione is probably one of the few women I would call strong headed, but at that time she wasn't herself. Barely she had survived the war and heard you were on the way, as the healers told her she would lose you again if there were any stress in the following 9 months."  
  
"But Luna there isn't any danger for my mum and Luke. There doesn'texist an excuse for this."  
  
"You're wrong there my dear. Something like that affected your mother more as you want allow her. At this day, nearly 14 years ago, her fears were real, fears which followed her 9 months and ended with her risking her own life just to have you. Now, however, her fears exist only in her mind. Your mum is tense and tempered like that because she is awaiting a battle which might not even come."  
  
"You mean Hermione is actually afraid of a miscarriage though there don't exist a real reason for such fears?"  
  
"Ron, that's exactly what I'm saying but don't be mistaken, for Hermione this fear is very real. She is like a tiger ready to jump."  
  
"Excuse me, I have to find my Mum."  
  
"You know, Luna, I think you just sorted some things pretty well out."  
  
"Well, this is what friends are for."  
  
"Hermione, open the door, please?"  
  
"Just leave me alone, Harry. I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"You know, Jessie didn't mean what she said, don't you?"  
  
"Oh, Harry, she meant it and after all that happened she had every right to react like that. This day is such a special day and all I do is to ruin it for her –"  
  
"Don't cry, love, I'm just glad to have you in my arms and not the door in front of me. Everything will be fine, I promise."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"For the awful things I said to you its just…I'm so afraid that something could happen to our baby."  
  
"I know."   
  
"You have tears in your eyes, Harry."  
  
"I had feared to lose you and Jessie at that time and I would end up all alone. It's just the thought, only the thought that makes me like this."  
  
"Me too, Harry."  
  
"Mum! I'm so sorry, can you forgive me?"  
  
"Can you forgive me, Jessie?"  
  
"Of course, I can and, Mum?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I love you."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
"Well, I love you both."


	3. Silent Night

**Author-Note: **Firstly and most important I like to thank my wonderful Betareader **Nia** for her insightful help. Thank you so very much 3

Now to this answer of the challenge its bit longer as it was suppose to be but mind you I don't care that much. It was fun to write it and well, I love it.

Please, please review.

**Phoenix**

**Challenge for June 10th, 2004:**  A late-night talk at the Burrow

Silent Night 

****

Twilight was being overtaken by the advancing darkness.  The already deep purple of the sky slowly deepened to black. On the horizon, the first tiny stars could be seen as a light breeze announced the coming night.  Night brought its own kind of silence as all voices issuing from the illuminated windows back in the Burrow died out one after another.

The wind touched the leaves on the trees that surrounded her.  For just a moment, nothing felt heavy on her heart.  It was as if during the quiet, breathless moments it took for day to transition to night, someone finally let her breathe freely again.  The cool air caused her skin to tingle.  After the warmth of the day it was a blissful feeling. But it lasted only a moment.

She closed her eyes against the familiar thoughts that assailed her anew.  The fleeting beauty of nightfall could not take away the last few days; it could not make things undone.  Heaviness returned and her eyes filled with tears.   Hermione Granger sat on a branch—an old branch, and watched another day pass away without being able to find the courage to say it.  Some Gryffindor, she thought.  She knew her world was changing, she understood all that, but still, she could not bring herself to say those words which had weighed so heavily on her since Ron told her the truth and they cowered there in her heart unspoken--silent. 

The truth.  It had been hard for Hermione to accept that she had not learned it from Harry directly.  Her hurt was absolute.  There came a point where she seriously questioned the role she was playing in Harry's life and the answer was nearly as simple as it was unbearable.  To Harry, she reasoned, she had always been "the brain"; the one who could figure things out, the one he could trust to find the answer, but never ever the one he would seek for emotional comfort.  Never the one he could share his heart with.

For this, Harry had the Weasleys in his life.  Hermione glanced back at the Burrow.  The last lit window in the house went black.  Darkness embraced her; comforted her, but it was the silence that made her feel alone—separate—useless.  The past days here at the Burrow had been anything but pleasant.  She'd felt alone, separate and useless there too, but the days were anything but silent.

They had been marked by her own fits of rage and temper.  She had known Harry wasn't telling her something; something important.  And, at the back of her mind was the nagging thought that continually resurfaced; maybe—maybe she wasn't important to him anymore.  She drew her knees closer to her chest.

The pleasant coolness of the night air had turned chill and she began to shiver, but she was determined to stay here in the silence.  She sat, hugging her knees to her chest and watched the stars and planets above her with child-like wonder.  Could they really seal a fate—seal the course of a life?  Hermione's logical mind could not, and would not accept this Prophesy, but her heart did.  Her heart agonized over it.

She struggled against what her heart believed—what her heart was preparing her for.  Since she had heard, she had begun to memorize moments—his every movement—his laughter, even his fits of temper and shouting so she would not forget when that day came.  Her mind--her logic tried to shake off this feeling of inevitability, because that day should not, could not exist—not for Harry.  Hermione's logic simply would not accept and could not imagine a life without Harry in it.  But her heart was already mourning.

And then, with a sigh, the realization slowly came—how thoroughly her life had already become intertwined with his.  Even if she meant nothing to him, she could not stop loving him.  "Love...,"  she whispered.  It was something she knew nothing about.  All she knew, with a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold, was that it was there—a part of her very being.  And she searched herself again trying to pinpoint the year, the month, the day when it had become a part of her.  It had been coming on so gradually that she couldn't do it.

          "What are you doing out here all alone?" A low male voice startled her out of her reverie and she let out a shriek of surprise.

Standing beside the branch and gazing at her was Harry Potter himself.  In his eyes she could see a kind of puzzled curiosity that plainly indicated he did not understand her.  Of course he did, how could he understand someone who was so completely outside his little world.

Hermione did not answer, but she felt her temper rising.  She remembered storming out of the Burrow.  There had been no fight, no argument, just that awful, lonely silence.  Everyone had known of the Prophesy; everyone but her—she had to hear it from Ron, and then by accident.  She'd been curious as to why Ginny and Ron had been whispering to each other--   She had been the only one who had not heard it directly from Harry himself; the only one Harry had not personally told.

 "Hermione?"  Harry's voice roughly intruded into her thoughts.  He had sat down on the end of the branch and was daring to look at her almost accusingly; as if she'd done something wrong.

"Just leave me alone!" she snapped at him.

He recoiled as if she had slapped him and she could see temper welling up in him. 

          "For days now, you've been like this to me—ONLY to me!"  He spat angrily back. "Tell me what I've done to you, Hermione, because I really don't see how I deserve these—these attacks!"  He moved to stand up again, but Hermione was faster.   

She jumped up fiercely and glared at him.  "And you're an angel, I suppose!  Just because I'm not good old reliable, predictable, always there Hermione then something is wrong with me.  You can tramp around for an entire school year in a towering rage, but if I want to be left alone, I'm suddenly the one on the attack!"

"What are you talking about?"  Harry frowned at her in utter bewilderment.

She did not answer right away, but glared at him a moment before turning her back on him.  "Once I thought," she began in a whisper, "I was your friend, or something like a friend—just a little important to you.  But it seems I've been wrong.  You've just kept me around because you needed my knowledge—my mind, and nothing more."

She couldn't see his face, but Harry's voice was incredulous when he spoke.  "How—how can you say something like that, Hermione?  Regardless of what you are saying right now, you have to know that you mean more to me than just a talented mind I can tap into—you have to know how important you are to me—how much, how much I depend on you, Hermione, the person."

She could feel him moving closer as he continued.  "Do you know that you were the first person I ever remember hugging me—the first to ever show me any appreciation not because I was the Boy-who-lived, but because of me myself, Harry.  You have got to know how much you mean to me, Hermione."  His voice shook slightly at these last words.

Slowly, she turned around to face him.  His hand was upon her shoulder and his eyes pleaded with her to believe him.

 She believed him.  Perhaps part of her had always known this.  Perhaps that was why she had been so angry—because she knew how much she meant to him and his silence had felt like a terrible betrayal.  She looked steadily back at him communicating in their own unique way the thing that was at the heart of her hurt and anger.

She knew at once when he'd understood, when he'd read her eyes and her expression correctly, because his face fell.

          "You know about it, then, the Prophesy?"  He sighed as a deep sadness appeared on his face.

          "Why, Harry, why?"  She asked, as tears welled up in her eyes and was astonished to see tears in Harry's eyes as well.

          "Because," he said, anguish in his voice, "I couldn't bear for you to see me as a murderer.  You—you told me once I was a great wizard.  You always believed in me—but after this prophesy, what will I be? What will I have become to you, Hermione?" His eyes were pleading with her to understand again.

          She did.  And with that understanding came a peace and a certainty she had not known in days. 

          She moved closer to him and when she spoke, her voice was quiet and confident.   "Do you honestly think I'd stop loving you because of a Prophesy, Harry?"

          He didn't answer, but he didn't need to.  No further words were needed as silence embraced them both.


End file.
